Tragic Friday night. Wine party fizzled out early, Pinterest is down, and my Giants are losing. So this isn't really tragic in an actual tragic way. But you know, whatever.
So apparently all it takes to get me to write is a tragic night and half a bottle of wine. Weird, right?
I suppose I should go to bed. I do teach tomorrow. Granted not till the afternoon but you know, well rested and all that jazz.
This will be something I read tomorrow and regret. Kind of like shoe shopping sprees at 2 am. Not that I'd know. Really. Maybe. Ok this is inane enough to not regret, it's utter and complete fluff.
It's a nicer way of saying "I'm not a size 0 *which shouldn't be a size*"
This is kind of going the way of stream of consciousness which could get scary considering my odd brain and bizarre trains of thought.
I kid, I kid. I'm not *that* random.
I need to new shoes.